


Get Back What Was Lost

by True_Babylonian



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/True_Babylonian/pseuds/True_Babylonian
Summary: Justin doesn't remember everything that happened at his prom. He knows this story from the fragmentary shots that sometimes slip through his head, as well as from the stories of eyewitnesses.It seems to Justin that there is nothing wrong with this - he has been told enough.But one day... one day, he remembers everything.He remembers the most important thing.
Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Get Back What Was Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Вернуть утраченное](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/752178) by True Babylonian. 



> One particular moment from 1x22 does not give me peace, because there are so many feelings there that you can die.  
> So I had to describe it here.
> 
> Enjoy reading :)

"You were right. The reason I took you in was because you took a bat to the head."

That's what Brian said back then. And Justin believed him.

Well, by and large, he just had no reason to disbelieve Brian. Although to hear such a thing from a person with whom you are madly in love is fucking painful. Kinney's legendary directness has always been his most difficult trait. No softening wording, no careful choice of expressions and no niceties. If you don't like it, don't eat it. Or, in Brian's case, _don't swallow._

Of course, he had softened things up with his unexpectedly frank statement, "I want to come home to you." Although before that he gave a long speech about how all this is conventional, atypical, "not like fucking straight people", for fuck's sake. But the fact remains. Justin believed that Brian had simply become attached to him during their forced cohabitation.

Taylor, however, had no choice.

He never could remember everything that had happened that day. Moreover, he had even forgotten the previous few days. The last clear memory, without the need for increased focus and the stories of others, was of Brian's refusal to go to the prom with him.

It is worth saying that the rest of the memories were not lost completely. This strange feeling reminded Justin of something from his childhood, when he and Daphne, having escaped from the last lesson, went to the cinema for a new horror movie. Since there was an age limit on it, they were not too lazy to get to the old cinema on the outskirts, which was working on its last legs, and therefore clearly followed the well-known rule "the customer is always right". Even if the customer is a blond brat who claims to be sixteen and, "yes, mom knows where he is with his girlfriend."

In the draughty cinema hall, they were almost alone, the old chairs smelled of dust, and forgotten popcorn, darkened with time, crunched under their feet, but the delight of a little adventure (and the anticipation of being shitless scared) paid for everything with interest. However, everything did not go as fantastic as it seemed. The film stock with some second-rate horror, the title of which Justin no longer remembers, turned out to be defective, which is why the frames were cut off every now and blinded viewers by the bare whiteness of the screen. A couple of times, the frames dazzling with crooked gluing were clearly confused in places, which misled young viewers completly.

Justin feels the same way after being attacked by fucking Hobbs. The memories flash in his head in a fragmentary, incoherent way, broken off from time to time by the absolute emptiness of another oblivion, confused and mixed up as a set of meaningless details and words taken out of context.

He remembers going down the stairs. Almost hears the crunch of hair spray on his fashionable styling. He remembers that then he looked only at mom. Hell, he brought so many troubles and worries to her in those months, and for some reason Justin terribly wanted her to feel like an ordinary mother of an ordinary teenager again, who is going to his ordinary prom.

Only Justin didn't know how shit it would turn out to be. And that his mother will not remember the word 'ordinary' for a long time.

He does not remember the decorations in the school hall. Daphne says there were bows, balls, snow-white tablecloths. He vaguely remembers the kaleidoscope of dresses and shiny satin suits, the trendy hairstyles of his classmates. Justin knows for sure that he danced with Daphne, but here he is not sure that these are really _his_ memories, because Daphne too often and in detail described this part of the evening to him, which made her stories firmly ingrained in his mind, effectively replacing the lost episodes.

Justin remembers little about Brian from that evening. Awfully little. He remembers Brian's confident and bored look with which he came in the hall, looking around with the dignity of the queen who had appeared at the reception. Justin remembers the joke about Daphne that made her blush and smile contentedly. Then - only small, elusive, like the twenty-fifth frame, pieces of their dance. Separate steps, Brian's quiet laughter, sounding in the vacuum emptiness of oblivion, the rustling of the shoes sliding on the parquet, the astonished whisper behind them.

Then, according to Daphne's report of the evening, there was a kiss... of which Taylor doesn't remember a second. Well, isn't that fucking unfair?

Justin is mad at Hobbs. For making him feel fear and pain, for questioning his future and his dreams. And most of all Taylor is angry about the stolen memories. It was the best night of his life — Justin is sure. Daphne, from time to time indulging in a nostalgic mood, does not get tired of describing in color how Brian looked at him, Taylor, how he danced with him, smiled. How Brian kissed Justin in front of everyone and "stole" him right from the ball in a completely teenage-romantic style. It took Justin a long time to believe that this actually happened.

Brian? Brian Kinney? The Main Stud of Liberty Avenue, the god of the advertising business, and Mr. "I Despise Everything Romantic And Straight"? Did he come to a gathering of "fucking youngsters"? Did he danced in the middle of the hall to a terribly sentimental song? Kissed him in front of everyone, showing how desirable and attractive Justin was? And then Brian ran out of the hall with him, holding hands and smiling broadly?

It smelled like the plot of a romance novel or the heated imagination of a unhinged mind. But Daphne swore, and later Kinney himself (reluctantly, much less emotionally and in no particular detail) confirmed all this.

Justin was happy and destroyed at the same time. It all seemed like a wonderful fairy tale, which presents Brian Kinney in an unexpectedly romantic light, but being just other people's stories and partially lost pieces of the puzzle that didn't add up to a coherent picture, these images only tormented and teased Justin with the unknown. Taylor couldn't understand why, if everything was so magical and wonderful, Kinney never came to see him in the hospital. Why didn't he ask anyone if Justin was alive, if he remembered anything, if he talked, if he walked?

"I'm sure I would have heard if you weren't alive."

Oh, fuck, thank you! If Taylor hadn't prized his good arm more than usual, he would have slammed his fist into that smug face for sure. Justin knew that Brian was feeling guilty. For Taylor, of course, it's all bullshit. It's only fucking Hobbs and his homophobic shit that's to blame. Fucking Hobbs, who took so much away from Justin.

Maybe Taylor said something to Kinney in the parking lot? Melodramatic confessed his love and demanded an answer? Did he set any conditions or ask uncomfortable questions? None of this responded with the slightest memory, not even the tiniest flash of a vague guess. But Justin was pretty sure something out of the ordinary had happened in the parking lot. Something that Brian had been running from all those days while Taylor was in a hospital.

On the day that Justin's real recovery began, he was able to remember how Kinney had tried to save him. That desperate, panicked, and somehow doomed cry of "Justin!" haunted his dreams for a long time. Taylor thought for a moment that this was it, that Brian just couldn't look at him and was reproaching himself for being so slow. So useless.

But something inside, something that desperately didn't want to calm down, to retreat, to resign itself to the past, was insistently whispering about some secret. There was much less information from the parking lot than from the ballroom. His own memories were like a charred photograph that had only preserved a fragment, and Brian's stories were as dry as a throat on the morning after a party at the Babylon.

The obsession didn't let go, but, thank fuck, it didn't become paranoid, stepping back, easing the tension and turning into a thin notch in the mind. If he wanted to, he could always go back to it and try to find the roots, but Justin, drowning in new worries, problems, and matters of the heart, left it alone.

For a while.

*

"It was the best night of my life!"

The words, too frank and completely sincere, come out by themselves. There is almost no one in the parking lot, and in the distance cheerful voices, music muffled by the doors and stone walls are heard. Their footsteps echo through the space until they stop in front of the car.

Taylor is afraid that with his words, full of delight and adoration, he will push Brian away. Damn, it's Kinney! Justin still remembers how he reacted to his snotty confessions. Brian seems to have a physical rejection of any sentimentality. A gag reflex for any, even the most subtle hint of romance.

Justin pauses, afraid that the magic of this wonderful, incredible evening will end right now. That Brian's hot hands would let him go. That the lips will stop tingling from a surprisingly sweet and deep kiss. That the smooth metal of the Jeep behind him would be mercilessly replaced by emptiness and a piercing draft of loneliness. And that Kinney's eyes, those amazing, deep, beautiful eyes, would stop looking so warm and kindly mocking.

"Even if it was ridiculously romantic," Brian answers softly, with a slight half-smile.

Brian smirks at his own sarcastic remark, and then suddenly turns serious. Inappropriately serious. Justin holds his breath, feeling Kinney's fingers on the silk scarf graze his neck, and seeing Brian's gaze freeze on his lips.

Kinney leans forward a little, but doesn't kiss yet. Justin closes his eyes, opens them again, catches Brian's gaze, and…

And Taylor's heart goes into a crazy run of desperate happiness. Kinney looks at him like he's never looked before. Here, face-to-face, in an empty parking lot, he gives Justin a look full of unspoken tenderness, a slight confusion over his feelings, a carefully concealed but, alas, obvious affection. Brian looks like he cares. As if Taylor meant anything to him. Not just a lover, and definitely not "just a fuck."

In the second before Kinney's mouth falls on his, Justin realizes that he's finally gotten through to Brian. Gotten in under the wire. He had found a loophole in that high, forbidding wall. And he got into a place where no one had ever been before.

Kinney kisses him, deliciously gently. This is not like their hot kisses during foreplay or during their dances in "Babylon". It wasn't even like the deep kiss Brian'd given him a few minutes ago in the ballroom.

This is something completely different. Tremulous, cautious. It's like being kissed _for the first time._ Expressing sympathy, seeking mutuality, enjoying the closeness that has opened up.

Justin feels dizzy and breathless. It seems to him that if it weren't for Brian's hands, he would have lifted off the ground long ago — he is so light now from the overflowing delight. From the painfully but sweetly aching happiness inside.

 _And from love_. God, how madly he loves this man!

When Kinney pulls away, Taylor can't even open his eyes. He seems to float to the surface, to return to reality. And it doesn't hit him with a sudden chill or the harsh truth of life, no. Brian is still caressing him with an incredibly soft gaze from under slightly lowered lids, and his expression is devoid of any mockery and arrogance. Justin sees that Kinney doesn't regret what he did. He doesn't regret that he just literally bared his soul to a stupid, lovesick brat.

Justin promises himself that no matter how life turns out, how their relationship develops, he will never forget this moment. This fragile, self-conscious love in Brian's eyes.

Justin promises to keep this memory in the deepest corner of his heart. He promises to keep Brian there. And never to forget that despite the words of Kinney himself, despite the assurances of all his friends and acquaintances, Brian knows how to love.

And he loves Justin.

*

Justin jumps up on bed, clutching at the pounding heart in his chest. As a child, he'd woken up in a similar state after nightmares, but now... now…

He carefully gets out of bed and quietly, trying not to wake Daphne, who is snoring on the sofa, goes to the kitchen. The fingers trembling from the remaining excitement do not obey well, and therefore he lights a cigarette only from the third time. After taking the first deep drag, Justin opens the window and sits down on the sill.

He looks up into the dark night sky, held back by the illuminated streets of Pittsburgh, and thinks about his dream. The rational part of his mind tries to convince Justin that this is just a fantasy. Yes, bright, full, detailed, but only a dream. He's just been thinking about Brian all the time these past few days, and he sees him almost every night, first in the back rooms of Babylon, and then in his own dreams. Kinney has been on his mind ever since the day Justin left Ethan.

"Here's the result."

But Taylor clearly understands that everything is not that simple. The feeling of understatement that has been scratching at him since the Hobbs attack suddenly disappears as if the answer to the main question has been found.

That's why Brian didn't come to see him at the hospital. He couldn't look Justin in the eye. Because he couldn't protect not just a stupid, naive boy, but a stupid, naive boy he fell in love with. Also, seeing him so lifeless and broken out there on the cold concrete of the parking lot, Kinney probably remembered why he'd never allowed himself to get attached in the first place. _Fear of loss_. The fear of loneliness, which after the bright, piercing happiness of mutual love will be devastating and unbearable and will definitely not bring a sense of independence and freedom, as before.

Brian must have remembered that it hurts to love. Brian remembered a lesson he had learned from his childhood with the help of his parents — "don't get attached if you don't want to break your heart."

Justin curses briefly when a forgotten cigarette burns his fingers. He was thinking too deeply. His mind is a jumble, a clatter of gears falling into place, revealing everything to him in a new light.

"You were right. The reason I took you in was because you took a bat to the head."

 _Lie_. Guilt and compassion were never the main virtues of Brian Kinney. He just wanted to help. He wanted to bring back to life the person who was dear to him.

Justin thinks about all the things Brian did for him. How he helped him get back to drawing, bringing home an expensive computer and literally persuading Taylor to try it. How Brian paid for his studies, making a ridiculous contract for an unknown future. How he'd accepted a set of stupid, completely ridiculous rules for a thirty-year-old man of this lifestyle, just so that Justin could live under the same roof with him. And Taylor definitely doesn't want to remember that he broke all these rules himself.

Yes, Brian never said it out loud, but his love was so obvious and clear. Justin shakes his head in disbelief, wondering how he could have been so blind. So thick-skinned.

Justin needed words _that meant nothing_. Brian only had acts _that meant so much_.

After lighting another cigarette, Justin returns to the room and quietly starts up the computer. Going to Vanguard's website, in the news section, he sees the saving, almost fateful "An intern is required in the art department".

Justin smiles, closes his eyes, recalling Brian's loving look there in the dim light of the parking lot, and then, after creating a new document, types out his resume.

Today, Justin remembered the most important thing. He got back what was lost.

And he would never lose it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be happy to receive your comments.


End file.
